War Culture
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: The ISA Marines considered themselves to be the greatest fighting force in the galaxy. Which was odd, really, considered that the helghast called themselves the same thing.


**War Culture**

" **Earth seeks no quarrel with the people of Helghan. Our worlds were once at peace, and can be again. It is Visari's lust for power that chains you to conflict. It is by his bloodlust that your lives are spent, by his falsehoods that your blood is spilled. Shatter the chains, and gain freedom. Spur falsehood, and seek liberty.**

Sergeant Iredell didn't know who was providing the voice for the loudspeaker. The same loudspeaker that was located 25 metres behind from where she had set up shop, and 125 metres away from the helghast lines. But, it was loud. Loud enough that she could hear it over the howling winds, and loud enough that the helghast on the other side of Pyrrhus Rise. But not so loud that she couldn't hear the propaganda from the helghast loudspeakers as well.

" **Never again shall Helghan suffer the touch of aggressors. Never again shall the imperialism of Earth be felt by the helghast. We shall strike as one. Defeat you as one. You, sent to die, light years from home, in the name of conquest. You, sent to shackle us once more. Our chains are broken, our spirits are not. The broken bodies of our foes will be all that remains."**

That voice though, she recognised as belonging to Colonel Mael Radec, the bastard that was occupying most of the ISA forces in Pyrrhus proper. The bastard who wasn't as great an orator as Visari (whose declarations had been broadcast by ISN across every colony, thank you very much), but he was apparently good enough that the helghast here were standing firm. Good enough that the 86th Infantry Division had stalled in their bid to secure the east flank of Pyrrhus. More and more marines were being diverted to the city in a bid to keep up the assault, while she and everyone else here were putting up with the wind, boredom, and possibly radiation poisoning.

" **You, who come to our world, cannot see that you have entered Hell. You, who invade our nation, think that you descend from Heaven. You are all mortal, while our spirit is eternal. Your fleet shall burn, your homes shall burn, your children shall cry out, as Earth dies the deaths you wish upon us."**

"Oh lay off it."

She glanced at Corporal Ashwood – her spotter. Her only company in the foxhole on the far end of the line.

"Fucking maniac," he said. He tossed a pebble out into the barren soil, joining the dust carried along in the wind. "The higs want to defend this shithole?"

"Stay in the shit long enough and it stops smelling so bad."

"Yeah, well, hopefully it won't come to that." He took a swig of water from his flask. "You hear the latest from Pyrrhus? Corinth River's finally been secured."

"Great," she murmured, looking down the scope of her sniper rifle. _And how many lives did that take?_

"Hey," Ashwood asked. "You holding up?"

"Fine," she lied. "Just need something to shoot."

"Um-"

"And that's part of your job," she added. "You're my spotter, so find me a target."

"Yeah, sure," he said. He drew out his pathfinder and squinted through it. "I'll let you know how that goes."

Probably the same as it would for the last three hours – since the helghast had tried to dislodge the ISA from their positions, and failed. Which might be considered a victory, but all the helghast had to do was defend. The boys upstairs had to find a way to break their lines, and could only do so with the men and material afforded to them.

" **You, who call yourselves Marines. You, who call yourself the best and strongest your race has to offer. Do you not see our spirit in yours? Do you not see that it is greater? You, sent by cowards across the stars, to wage their wars. We are warriors all. We fight and die as one. You shall die alone. Unremembered. Unmourned."**

Ashwood was complaining again. Iredell strained to hear the sound of the ISA loudspeakers, but couldn't. Were the helghast speakers louder, or had her side's gone down? She gripped her rifle tighter.

"There's one of the bastards."

It didn't take her long to find who Ash was referring to – a hig, emerging from his lines. One-hundred metres away, which would be an easy shot under normal circumstances, but here, she had to deal with the detritus littering the landscape, and high winds.

"Where's he headed?" Ash murmured.

"Just give me figures," Iredell said.

Ashwood did so – range, wind speed, the works. Iredell made the adjustments, and lined up her sights. If she had to guess, the hig was trying to get to a vantage point to scout the ISA lines. Not something the ISA had to worry about, as they had air superiority, and that included the ability to peer through Helghan's atmosphere – not enough for pinpoint accuracy, but enough that they could gauge whatever the helghast were doing the moment it began. Well, out here at least.

"Okay," Iredell whispered. She had the sucker lined up, and had accounted for the wind velocity thanks to Ash's measurements. "Firing…firing…firing…"

 **Bam.**

A rifle shot echoed across the wastes. Yet it wasn't hers – she knew that not from the knowledge of having not pulled her trigger, but from the splatter of blood that hit her. From the sight of Ashwood slumped over the pathfinder, a hole where his eye had once been.

"Ash?" she whispered. She gave him a nudge, and he slumped down in the foxhole. The bullet hadn't just taken out his eye, it had taken out the pathfinder's glass as well.

"Shit."

" **Shots fired over a century ago, yet in your eyes, we sin, when the fire is returned. Too late for water now, as you tread upon our earth. Your promises but dust in the wind. All that is left is fire. Already you fall. Already you burn."**

"Kilo Seven, come in, over."

The voice of Lieutenant Weir came over the radio. Something was in her eye, and it wasn't dust.

"Kilo Seven, report, over."

"Ki…Kilo Seven," she whispered.

"Kilo Seven report. Kilo Eight's vitals flat-lined."

"Kilo Eight is dead," she whispered.

"Roger that Kilo Seven, recommend that you withdraw."

"Copy that Kilo One." She paused, biting her lip. "Sir, is there something wrong with our speaker?"

"Say again, Kilo Seven?"

"Our speaker," she repeated. "I'm hearing all this crap the helghast put out and-"

"Holy shit!"

That was all Weir said. After that was gunfire.

"Kilo One?"

Lots of gunfire.

"Kilo One!"

Gunfire that sounded like StA-52's mixed with M82's, with far too many of the former, and too few of the latter.

"Kilo One, please advise, I-"

Puffs of dirt flew up into the air as she heard the sound of mortars, and saw their effects. Just as she saw dozens of infantry swarming forward, accompanied by light armour. Not only had the higs flanked the ISA, but they'd timed the manoeuvre with a general advance. All this time the Marines had been trying to crack the helghast shell, when in reality, the higs had been planning the same thing.

"Shit."

That was all she could say as she slung her rifle over her shoulder, and activated her cloaking module. She wanted nothing more than to stand and shoot, but that would get her killed. She might likely be killed anyway, but right now, the most important thing was to get back to her lines. Taking out a pistol, she began to run. It would make the cloaking less effective, but with fire and fury raining down on the ISA lines, speed was now more important than stealth.

So she kept running, as the helghast advanced. Kept running, as gunfire and screams crackled over the radio. Kept running, as Convoy Ares announced over the radio that they would be diverting to their position, and would be there in ten minutes.

 _Too slow,_ Iredell thought to herself.

So she kept running. Kept running right until she saw a pair of helghast in front of her – the bastards had flanked the ISA from both sides. They turned, and must have seen something, cloak aside, because behind those goggle-eyes, she knew that they were asking "what the fuck?"

So she drew out her pistol and fired, shooting one of the bastards in the skull. Her cloak fell, but it was compromised anyway. She went to shoot the other one and-

" **The ISA is the finest fighting force in the galaxy. Men, material, ships, all extend across the stars. As mighty as you are, you cannot defeat us. As courageous as you are, you cannot win. Join us. Join the colonies of Earth. Join us, and live in peace, free from the shackles of tyranny. Join us, and prosper."**

 _Oh so_ now _it works,_ she thought, as the helghast fired. _How quaint._

They were strange thoughts. What was even more strange was how little it hurt for StA-52 rounds to tear through her body. Her Kevlar was good. Not so good that it could take this much punishment at so close a range. And strangest of all was that she didn't die just then. That somehow, horrifically, she was still alive. Enough to see blood spilling out all around her. Enough to see the hig kneel down and grab her by the scruff of her neck. Enough to see him glance towards the ISA firebase, where their speakers were broadcasting.

"Lies," the helghast said. He turned back to her. "You come here to kill us, and you fight for lies."

She tried to say something, but there was too much blood in her mouth. She reached for one of her pockets, and at least for the first few seconds, the helghast said nothing.

"Warriors," he scoffed. "You call yourself the finest of your race, and yet you flee. You come here, and we break you. We-"

He grabbed her hand, beating her to what she was looking for. A holo-snap. The helghast grunted, and he activated it. As the light left her eyes, she could make out the features of Kenneth. Her son.

"Is he yours?" the helghast asked.

She tried to nod, but couldn't move. She tried to speak, but there was only silence. Nothing but horrible, empty silence. Only her mind, her body, and the helghast.

"Did you come here to die for him?"

She couldn't answer. Wouldn't answer. Not to this monster. Not to this man, who took her left hand, and put the holo-snap in it.

"For his sake, I'm sorry," he said. He put a fist to his chest. "One warrior to another. For your sake, you should have stayed on Earth."

She tried to whisper something. _Always faithful._ And maybe, the helghast understood. Maybe that was why he began moving to the ISA firebase.

Faith. Fire. Fear. The elite. On some level, maybe the Marines and helghast were kindred spirits.

As death took her, the thought offered both comfort, and terror.

* * *

 _A/N_

 _So, I've been playing some_ Killzone 2 _multiplayer recently. The fact that I suck at it aside, one thing that's a nice touch is the use of propaganda speakers as the equivalent of control points or capture the flag - always like it when multiplayer strives to be congruent with the universe it's set in. It's partly what led to drabble this up, even though the only multiplayer server that's still got a decent playerbase is a cycle of the Radec Academy map._

 _The other thing that got me to drabble this up is an observation that I've had for quite awhile, that science fiction tends to have a fetish for marines, usually as an elite force within the setting. How true that is in the real world will vary by opinion and country, but it did strike a vibe with me in the context of the multiplayer, the idea that the ISA Marines are meant to be Earth's 'uber soldiers', while the ISA Regulars and RRF of_ Killzone 1 _were more average joes that could only hope to hold out until the UCN arrived. Because there's a very distinct shift in tone and aesthetic between KZ1/Liberation and subsequent games, at least as far as the ISA is concerned._

 _Well, anyway, drabbled this up._


End file.
